


Whiskey & Rum

by FreyReh



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 02:05:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16986078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyReh/pseuds/FreyReh
Summary: AU- Two strangers meet in a bar on Christmas. Rated Light M





	Whiskey & Rum

Part of  _[‘Frey’s 12 Days of Christmas’](http://freyreh.tumblr.com/post/180963652970/freys-12-days-of-ficmas)_

_**02: Captain Swan: Whiskey & Rum** _

Emma was exhausted. It’d been a long day and all she wanted was to go to bed. However, she decided to treat herself to a drink for a job well done. A case she’d been working on for weeks ended in her favor. She’d tracked down the perp and had him in silver bracelets by the end of the night. He’d called her cold for arresting him on Christmas Eve but Emma hadn’t cared.

She’d never been one for the holidays. 

Her ankles were begging her for mercy though. So she entered the first bar she came upon. It being Christmas Eve it wasn’t as busy as usual and Emma liked that. The only people in there were people like her. People who didn’t care for the holidays and just wanted to be alone. She slid onto the stool, sighing now that her stilettos were no longer causing her pain, and ordered a whiskey. She didn’t shrug off her red, leather jacket because she wasn’t going to be there long. She placed her clutch on the bar and it wasn’t long until the bartender came to get her order. 

“What will it be?” asked the woman behind the bar. She had on jeans and a plain grey t-shirt along with multiple necklaces around her neck. Nothing festive about her attire at all. Then again, the bar wasn’t decked out in decorations either. 

“Whiskey. Make it a double. Best you have.”

“All right.”

In seconds Emma had a drink in her hand, giving the woman a twenty and waving away the change. She welcomed the alcohol, the warmth traveling from her lips down to her chest and belly. It helped balance the loneliness she always felt this time of year. Perhaps the perp was right. Maybe she was cold for choosing to work on a holiday. Holidays just were never her thing because she never had a moment in her life to celebrate a damn thing. She was an orphan, her parents leaving her on the side of the road like garbage. She had no one waiting for her at home due to closing her heart after being abandoned at seventeen and framed for a crime she hadn’t committed, the trauma still evident at twenty-eight. For a brief moment she let her mind wander to the son she knew she had out there, hoping that he was safe in bed and anxious to open his presents from Santa in the morning. 

He’d be ten. Did ten-year-old boys still believe in things like that?

“Hey Roni!” called someone at the end of the bar, making Emma’s attention turn to him instead of the thoughts in her head. “Another round if you please.”

“I’m cutting you off after this one, Detective.”

“Fine,” he said with a wave of his hand. As Roni poured his drink his eyes met with Emma’s. His brow lifted as he looked her over and she felt a familiar warmth travel through her. And it wasn’t because of the alcohol. She quickly looked away, instead taking another drink, but it hadn’t been quick enough because she soon became aware of someone sitting on the stool next to her. She’d been tempted to ignore him and just leave, but her drink was only half gone and she wasn’t about to waste good whiskey. “Roni, another round for the lass.”

“I’m fine, thanks,” murmured Emma into her glass. 

“Oh, well, you just got here.”

“And I’ll soon be leaving.” 

Emma’s words were ignored because soon she had another drink in front of her. She gave the bartender a halfhearted glare and Roni just put both hands up in innocence before tending to the grumpy looking fellow at the end of the bar. Emma swiveled in her seat to look at the stranger next to her. He was handsome. His blue eyes almost glowed in the dim bar. He wore all black, chest hair peeking out of the shirt beneath his leather jacket. Trouble just oozed off of him and if it weren’t for the fact that Emma heard Roni call him detective she’d be wondering if he was soon to be one of her marks. 

“All right, Darling, I can tell when I am not wanted.” Emma snorted at that, earning a tight smile from the detective. “Enjoy the drink. Merry Christmas, Love.”

Emma was about to correct him and tell him that she wasn’t his love but he was already gone, moving to the table he’d previously been at. Alone. He had a slight stumble to his step but he kept himself upright before slouching into his chair, downing the last drink Roni had given him, and for a split second Emma felt for him. Because staring at him was like looking in a damn mirror.

He was just as lonely as she was.

“You’re the first woman I’ve seen Killian hit on in years,” murmured the bartender, gaining Emma’s attention, and for some reason she felt protective because the woman almost looked smug for some damn reason. “Too bad he got shot down. I almost feel sorry for him.”

“I’m not interested in his life story,” said Emma, wanting to put distance between her and the stranger. Already feeling like she was getting too damn close.

“Or anyone’s from what I can tell.”

Emma scowled. Roni just hummed like she’d been right about something. Emma quickly finished her first drink and didn’t even hesitate to start the second double. She wanted to ignore the guilt in her gut but it just grew. She chanced a look over her shoulder and saw him still sitting there, nursing the rest of the drink he was told was going to be his last. 

There was just something about him...

Most men she’d dealt with wouldn’t have taken her first no as an answer. They’d have pushed. Or touched her without her consent. Or not have left the stool at all. Emma sighed before turning back toward Roni. 

“One more whiskey. And one of whatever he’s been drinking.” Roni raised a brow. Emma dared her to say something with her eyes. Instead, Roni made the drinks, setting them up for Emma, who paid with another twenty. She tucked her clutch under her armpit then grabbed the drinks. Her heels clicked on the floor as she made her way over to the man. He didn’t notice her at first and when she cleared her throat to gain his attention there was a genuine look of surprise on his face upon seeing her. 

“This seat taken?”

“That depends...”

“On?”

“If you’re the one offering to take it.”

Emma didn’t wait for him to say yes or no. She just sat, placing his drink in front of him. He quickly finished his last drink before wrapping his hand around the one she brought. In the back of her mind she wondered if he had a drinking problem. Then again why would she care? They were just two strangers sharing a drink. Nothing more. 

“I didn’t catch your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it,” she said with a smile before sipping her drink, crossing her legs in the chair. He chuckled, scratching behind his ear, a tell that he was nervous. Emma also didn’t miss how his eyes traveled over her legs before rushing back to meet her gaze. When he struggled to find a new approach she relented. “Emma.”

“Killian.”

No last names. Perfect. 

“So tell me, Emma, what is a beautiful lass such as yourself doing here on the eve of Christmas?”

“Enjoying a drink, just like you.”

“Hm. Indeed.”

Maybe it was the four shots of whiskey. Maybe it was some weird intuition that let her know he was safe for a one-time fling. Maybe it was just because it’d been too,  _too_ long since she’d been with someone. Either way, the normal alarm bells that went off in her head weren’t sounding as she leaned forward to get a little closer, free hand reaching under the table to slide over the top of his thigh. 

“So tell me, Detective,” she said, voice warm and seductive, excitement sparking in her when she saw his eyes darken with desire at the touch, “how is it that rum is your drink choice?”

“Well,” he said, licking his lips, and Emma wanted a taste of them. “I’ve always had a knack for sweet things. The taste of it on my tongue is just...” He paused, biting his lower lip as he once again looked her over. “Perfect.”

“Hmm...” Her hand traveled up his thigh more before drifting away. She took another sip of the whiskey. Her cheeks were flushed. Her body warm. She was tempted to shrug off her jacket but suddenly she wanted to be in bed. With him. “I can see why you’d like that.”

“And the whiskey? Why is that your choice?”

“I just like the feel of it. How the warmth just travels through me,” she said through lowered lashes. And what the hell? Why was the last time she’d flirted like this? Had she ever?

“How about we-”

“-get out of here?” finished Emma, downing the last of her drink before slowly standing. “I couldn’t agree more.”

He finished his drink as well and offered his arm. She was tempted to pretend she hadn’t seen it but damn. She was a little drunk and the heels were killer. So she looped her arm around his and walked with him out the door. The bitter cold greeted them and they both cursed before huddling closer together. 

“I... I live nearby.”

“Lead the way, Detective.”

No words were spoken. It was too cold and by the time he was opening the door to his place the buzz of the alcohol wore off a little bit. Just enough where Emma was starting to doubt this fling she was contemplating. He had opened the door, but he waited. Waited for her to take the step inside. 

“Screw it,” she mumbled before rushing forward and pressing her lips to his. She could taste the rum and God his kiss was like a damn drug. She couldn’t get enough. His hands were in her hair and his tongue sliding against hers. She felt his knee between her legs and she’d never wanted anyone as much as she wanted Killian in that moment. So she shifted until they were completely in his apartment, the door closing behind them.

.

.

.

Emma awoke in a strangers bed on Christmas Day. The sun was shining through the curtains enough to cast the room in a soft light. Her eyes caught the dust motes that were fluttering around in the room. She felt a headache at the base of her skull and her mouth was dry but none of that mattered because...

She hadn’t left. Hadn’t wanted to. After the second time, or was it the third?, she’d decided to stay the night. She’d had excuses. How she was too tired. She hadn’t wanted to put her heels back on. It was cold. But really? She’d wanted to stay. She’d wanted to stay because he made her feel something. Not just the desire, but something else. Somewhere between the shyness he’d shown when unzipping her dress and the discomfort of showing her his one hand had been a prosthetic, Emma had decided she’d wanted to get to know more about him.

Despite her walls.

“Good morning,” he murmured from beside her. Awake with his head propped up in his hand looking down at her with a soft smile.

“How long have you been a creep watching me sleep?” she asked with a grin.

“Only about a minute or two.”

“Your hair is wet,” she said, reaching up to run her fingers through it.

“Aye. I took a shower. Got the coffee on if... If you’d like to stay and share a cup.”

This was her chance. Her chance to run. To keep this a one-time thing. He seemed to sense her thoughts because he deflated a little, giving a little nod while sadness took over his eyes. Ready to just let her go out that door. So it threw him for a loop him when she suddenly flipped him onto his back and straddled his hips instead, sheets falling to reveal her nude body. 

“Bloody hell!” he said in surprise, hands going to her bare hips. 

“I’d love a cup of coffee... And maybe some aspirin... But first...” She rolled her hips. “I’d like something else instead.”

“Apparently I’ve been a good boy this year to get a great gift such as yourself on Christmas...” He sighed as she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. As per their other kisses they both got lost in it, hands caressing bare skin and when Emma broke the kiss they pressed their foreheads together, gasping for breath. 

“Hmm... A good boy? And here I thought you were naughty.”

“Oh... I can be naughty, if you’d like.”

“Good.”

_A year later, they are celebrating Christmas._

_Together._

**END**


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